Couch- Part Two
by 8belles
Summary: I read ElyaSol's Couch in March and was inspired to see what that amazing couch could do for Felicity and Oliver. I put the original story's link in the A/N - you should read it... it's very good. Fluffy OLICITY!


Couch Part Two (Courtesy of ElyaSol – Please check out her fic "Couch"  s/9171052/1/Couch 4/4/13 Worth the read.)

Oliver was grateful for the many things that Felicity had done for him and his work but right now he was more grateful to her than ever. The green couch she told him they needed cradled his battered body softly yet firmly. He chose early afternoon to hunt and it required him to be more acrobatic than he was used to and his body was telling him clearly how much it did not like him.

Coming to the lair, he had walked down the black metal stairs, hung his bow, stripped off his quiver, pulling the hood and shirt off and virtually collapsing on the welcoming green couch. Felicity had told him and Diggle months ago that this place needed a bit of a lounge area. At first, Oliver thought she was nuts and then she called it a Man Cave. That would not do. He was Oliver Queen and too dignified for a "man cave". But he relented to her idea, and they had a lounge area now. Occasionally, he had enjoyed a sport event on TV in their company and it was… nice.

Throwing an arm over his eyes to make it darker, he noticed how his head was pounding from the bump he took as he narrowly escaped SCPD. _A Tylenol would be great right now_, he thought, _or an ice pack._ Focusing on his headache, he didn't hear her footsteps "reporting" for her evening of work. "Oliver. You've been out!" she exclaimed, slightly surprised to see him back from a mission but more so because his half nakedness, prone on _her_ couch was always more eye popping.

He didn't lift his arm and simply replied, "Yup. _Owww_."

The 'oww' to her ears sounded like her father, when he'd come in from yard work sore and tired and wanted her mom to baby him a bit. It reminded her of past boyfriends who did the same thing when they were down with a cold or flu and was trying to get some sympathy care. Casting a look in his direction, she saw he wasn't bleeding or wounded so she didn't cave into her butterflies swarming in her belly- yet.

Sitting at her computer desk, she logged in, her back to him but he hadn't moved, "You went out early. Was your target going somewhere?"

There was a pause of silence before he answered in a weary voice that any Broadway actor would envy, "Yes. A three pm flight out of the country. He was re-routed."

"Hmm." She returned noncommittally.

The waiting game of silence played out between them. Oliver really wanted for Felicity to get him an ice pack, and Felicity wanted him to work for it.

Felicity was wondering if she was falling for the amazing Oliver Queen. She even entertained ideas of him being interested in her, although that so went against her nerd DNA. There was that tender moment when he said she could talk to him anytime about anything; when he rescued her from Helena and they had been in close proximity, raising her chin as leaning in until Dig showed up; the benefit party and the look he gave her when she appeared in a gold dress and no pony tail; the elevator shaft when she had babbled herself out another kiss perhaps? She stopped her runaway train of thoughts abruptly. Now even her daydreams were nattering!

Clicks and lightening fast typing filled the arrow cave like the staccato beat of Latin music. She generated reports for at least a half an hour before she heard him shift on the couch slightly and groan softly in sore muscled agony. Felicity could not help but to smile slightly to herself before tossing over her shoulder, "You don't need a doctor do you?"

"No." he admitted but then plied his best pity-me voice, "But some Tylenol and an ice pack for my head would be amazing."

"That's nice." She returned, not looking at him but knowing he had his eyes open watching her.

"Please?" he intoned mournfully.

"That's better." Felicity replied cheerfully and got up staring him down as she went upstairs to get the ice, "I'm your partner, not your maid."

He watched her ascend the stairs and his mental wingman reminded him to treat her better because she was worth it, among other things, such as he was finding himself increasingly attracted to her. Visions of her a various times they'd been close burst in his mind like fireworks. Oliver closed his eyes to watch in the darkness of his mind. The butterflies rose in his guts that were not too bruised.

Queen wanted to shake his head to get the sudden urge to kiss her, hold her in his arms and never let her go out of his head, but his cranium hurt too much. So he endured the daydreams, but it still left him scared in a weird way. This wasn't how he wooed girls… laying on the couch, begging for attention. He was used to _getting_ attention without the work. Trying to make sense of all this was making his head hurt worse so he kept his eyes closed.

Returning with a bag of ice, rattling it temptingly promising cool relief, she lighted down the staircase. Oliver heard her go into her purse and open a bottle of water. What he didn't expect was her sitting next to him on the green couch in the small sliver of space he didn't occupy.

He almost jolted up as he felt her weight settle on the edge of the couch, but forced himself to stay still. This was close. Very close. Every ounce of remaining concentration went into keeping himself relaxed and eyes closed.

"Here. Ice and Tylenol." Felicity tried to sound normal. She wasn't sure what possessed her to seat herself just barely touching her boss on the couch. But here she was, sitting hip to hip with him as he still hung an arm over his eyes to shut out the light.

"Thank you." Oliver moved his arm to accept the pills and water. He popped and swallowed without sitting up. He looked at the ice then at her.

"Where do you want this?" Felicity clamped down hard on her babble-maker, determined not to ruin this… opportunity.

A clever smile spread across Oliver's face as a million answers sprung to mind where he'd like that ice, but he kept them to himself for now. "Right here. Thanks." He pointed vaguely toward the back, left side of his head.

Felicity leaned across him to place the bag of ice between his head and the back of the couch when she felt his azure gaze burning into her. Looking down, she was inches from his face. She smiled sheepishly and instinct made her try to sit back up but there was a strong arm now preventing her.

"Umm, Oliver. Is this … a smart thing to do?" She asked as her throat constricted with nerves. She wanted to push her glasses up her nose as a nervous release.

He gazed deeply at her trying to do this the right way, "Do you want me to let go?"

Her breath hitched in her throat as suddenly all her senses were alert and on fire, "Not really."

Oliver smiled a genuine caring smile but a wounded look tinged his expression, "Felicity. I'd never do _anything_ to hurt you. **Ever**. I … care for you too much. I'll let you go."

"Never let me go." Felicity said grabbing his shoulders and quickly pressed her lips to his.

Oliver's eyes shot wide open at the innocence of her kiss, like a teenager's first: awkward but full of want. He closed his eyes and slid his hands up her back to hold her head gently while encouraging her to relax.

Felicity never kissed anyone like this before. Her brain started to rattle off facts and figures about how compatibility could be determined by kissing because of pheromones and immune system responses. As Oliver gently held her, she shut the babble machine off and decided she was going to enjoy this kiss. Time seemed to just slip away.

"AHEM." The baritone of John Diggle.

Felicity shot straight up to her feet, nipping Oliver on the lip by accident. Oliver sat up with a muffled protest holding his lip. Both of them were scarlet with embarrassment and excitement.

"Perfect timing John." Oliver noted sullenly resting his elbows on his knees.

"Oh c'mon you two. Not like I WANT to see you snogging on the couch. I don't think I could ever sit there again because of what I have witnessed" Diggle threw back at him.

"I think I'll just go." Felicity skittered over to her desk still pink with mortification.

John rolled his eyes, " Don't mind me."

"Felicity… I'll walk you to your car." Oliver said and shot daggers at Dig. Diggle smiled sweetly in return.

Out side the back door to Verdant, Oliver grabbed Felicity's arm before she could run away, "Felicity! Stop."

She was staring at the ground, not wanting to meet his eyes or shirtlessness, which was more temptation. "Why? I didn't.. I shouldn't have. That just wasn't right and we'll end up like _When Harry Met Sally_ or _Sleepless in Seattle_ and I just don't want that for our relat- friendship and –"

Oliver leaned in and gently kissed her again to stop the tumble of words coming out of her. He pulled back, " Felicity, I've been wanting to kiss you for a long time now. Don't be ashamed."

Her eyes brightened a bit believing his words, "You feel the same?"

Queen chuckled, "I guess I do. Here we are!"

"Well, for the record, I don't deal well with breakups." Felicity said, her voice stronger.

"Is that a warning?" Oliver replied in mock fear.

"Yes. See I _told you_ we needed a couch." Felicity smiled brightly and Oliver thought the sun had reappeared. Parts of his heart that had been cold for so long were beginning to thaw with her indomitable enthusiasm.

"I agree. That couch was one of the best things I've ever bought. Goodnight, Felicity." He kissed her forehead and saw her to her car. He watched her drive away when that mysterious baritone came to his ears again.

"You found your lifeboat finally?" Diggle commented.

Oliver frowned grumpily as he turned to face John, " Go do some Allstate commercials, will you! I'm going to go sit on my couch!"

John smiled a wide smile for the younger man as he passed. _That couch was a good idea_, he mentally agreed and closed the door behind him.


End file.
